Yours
by Hell's Princess Cra
Summary: This is the sequel to MINE. It's been three years since he left (y/n) tied to that bed... She hasn't slept a night without dreaming of him. The story continues... What will you do in the face of the man you thought you loved, but left you high and dry? How far he go for your attention?
1. Part 1

[(Y/n)'s P.O.V]  
I looked down at my chest as the warm water of the shower hit my neck and back. I looked at the scar he gave me. That one word... 'MINE.' I turned off the shower and wrapped myself in a towel before walking into my room and slipping on a (f/c) bra with matching panties. I wrapped my hair in the towel and laid down on my bed.  
"It has been three years since he left me tied to a bed, crying and alone. I remember it clearly... I was 19 then. He was 23... Wow, he'd be 26 now, wouldn't he? Where has the time gone?" I whispered to myself tracing the word on my chest with my finger. I haven't slept one night with out dreaming of him hovering over my bed, watching me sleep. They've been so realistic... I've started going to a psychologist, Dr. Marlow Murphy Jones; he's really nice and prefers me to call him Murphey. He's a very tall and lanky man with short blonde and grey hair and a matching goatee. He put me on this medication to help me sleep, but it doesn't stop the feeling I get at night, the feeling that I'm being watched. It normally starts around now, when it starts to get dark out. He said it was normal for rape victims... but I know this feeling is something more than my paranoia...  
A harsh knock at my door snaps me out of my stupor. I stand, wrap myself in a robe, and walk to the door. A small black box sat on my door step. I rubbed my eyes and checked again... still there. I open the door slowly and grab the box, then close the door and lock it. A small red heart shaped piece of paper is taped to the front of the box, so I peel it off; it unfolds, it read:  
'(Y/n)-  
I would like you to accept this gift as an apology. I'll see you soon.  
Love,  
Jeffery'  
I hastily opened the box, a (f/g) ring resided inside. I examined the ring and placed it on my right hand's ring finger.  
"Jeff is still-" everything went black before I could complete my sentence.


	2. Part 2

[(Y/n)'s P.O.V]  
I woke up in a hospital bed with all sorts of devices connected to me, including a heart monitor. A man in blue scrubs an a white lab coat walked in, whom I assumed was my doctor.  
"Oh, good. You're awake. (Y/n), how are you feeling?" he asked. I looked around again, then back down at my right hand.  
"I'm fine... Um, doctor?" I responded. He looked at me with curiousity in his eyes, so I continued, "How long have I been, um, asleep?"  
"Oh, not too long. You collapsed due to exhaustion last night. You seemed to have slept well while you were unconscious." he answered nonchalantly, then pointed at the table next to me and resumed speaking, "Someone really cares about you. The same unknown person brought you gifts and clothes over night."  
I looked at the table, there sat a vase of (f/c) roses with red and black ribbons on each, a bag of new clothes, and three small gift boxes. While I was busy scoping the my gifts from the bed, the doctor had removed all the medical equiptment that was attached to me and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Standing, I walked over to the table and got dressed into the clothes that arrived with the gifts. Once dress, I put my hands in my pockets, feeling a paper like substance against my hand, I pulled it out. It was another paper heart, but this one was black. I unfolded it and it's text was written in red. It said something about wanting to meet up at the park near my apartment at the witching hour, yet again signed in ihis/i name.  
I sighed and grabbed my cell phone off the table, after turning it on I called one of my friends to help me get all this stuff back to my apartment. It took about thirty minutes for us to drive back to my house.  
"(Y/n), did you get a boyfriend without telling me?" she asked in her New York accent as we carried the gifts into my apartment. I laughed and answered, "I suppose you could say a not-so-secret admirer."  
"Oh, my goodness! You lucky, lucky girl, you!" she gasped. I chuckled softly, "Lucky indeed."  
"Well, I'll call you later and we'll hang out, 'Kay?" she said and began to drive away before I could say anything else. I waved then walked inside and sat down, picking up one of the gifts. I unravelled the paper and opened the box. Inside the box was a small stuffed animal, a (f/a), holding a large, old looking key with, yet again, a red and black ribbon tied onto it. I placed it aside and grabbed the second box; inside it lied a picture in a beautifully constructed metal frame. The frame was designed like roses and thorns in a heart shape, but what really caught my eye was the picture. It was of Jeff and I four years ago, one year before the incident. The third box contained letters, each addressed to me, one for each day of the three years that I hadn't seen him.  
Tears swelled in my eyes and rolled down my cheeks as I read the latest one, written and dated last night. An apology letter, written with Jeff's surprisingly neat cursive. I shook my head and began to sob.  
"Why are you doing this to me now?" I asked, knowing no one would answer. I stayed on my bed crying for a good hour or two. My clock chimed, it was now noon. I stood up, heading to the kitchen as I was wiping the tears away. My phone rang, Murphey's picture and number blinked on the screen. I answered, "Hello, Murphey..."  
"Hello, (y/n). Would you come out to lunch with me today? I can pick you up." he chirped cheerfully. I agreed, it would be good for me to get out and have lunch with someone without thinking of him. Ten minutes later, Murphey was knocking at my door. We got into his car and drove to a nice little diner.  
"(Y/n), is everything okay? I heard you were in the hospital this morning..." the blonde asked. I nodded and replied, "Yeah, I just passed out..."  
(Jeff's P.O.V)  
'Who the Hell is this fucker?' I thought to myself, a slight growl passing my red lips. I watched from a table on the other side of the diner. He put his hand on hers and smiled, leaning in to what seemed to be him wanting to share a secret.  
"Hello, I'm Stella; I'll be your waitress today. Would you like anything to drink? Are you ready to order? ... Sir?" a girl in the diner's uniform approached my table, her voice sickeningly nasally and had a New Yorker's accent.  
"Coffee, black." I answered, looking up at her annoyed that she was blocking my view. She smiled and twirled her hair, using her eyes to flirt with me, "Is that all, sir?"  
I smiled to myself, knowing I had just found my next victim. I looked up at her smiling and answered, "Would it be too much to ask if I had you sit with me for a bit?"  
"Oh, of course not! I'm on break in five minutes!" she giggled and scurried away. I rolled my eyes. The people in this town were so easy to fool. A little bit of make-up and a different hair style was all it took for me to blend in. A moment later, Stella returned, coffee in hand, and sat at my table in the seat across from me.  
"Here's your coffee, sir."  
"Call me 'Ben'." I smiled at her and she returned the gesture while twirling her long red hair. She began to giggle and snort while talking. I sat there feeling my IQ drop as she kept talking.  
"Stella, when do you get off work?" I interupted her.  
"Anytime you want me to be!" Stella replied.  
"Well, meet me behind the diner at ten tonight." I purred.  
"Okay! Like, is this going to be a date?" she cooed, the woed 'date' was held out longer than the others. I sighed and nodded. I hadn't touched the now cold coffee. I saw (y/n) and the man stand.  
'Time to wrap this up.' I thought, then spoke, "Stella, I'll see you tonight. I gotta go. Pay for the coffee, will ya?"  
She nodded happily and watched me leave after (y/n) and the blonde idiot.  
[(Y/n)'s P.O.V]  
We stood at my door, talking and laughing, but I couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched. Murphy left and I entered my house. The smell of men's cologne filled my apartment. I shook my head and mumbled, "It's probably just Murphey's."  
The rest of the day I read through all of the letters Jeff had written, but never sent. They were sweet, but I don't know if I could have trusted their words, though. Jeff is an incredible actor and I know that from experience.  
"Jeff, what are you doing now?" I sighed as I looked at my clock. It was ten at night. Two more hours until I am suppose to meet him at the park.  
(Jeff's P.O.V)  
I looked at my watch, waiting for Stella behind the diner. She popped up thirty minutes late, dressed up as if we were going on a date to a five star restaurant. I walked up to her and hugged her, quickly dropping the small pocket knife from my long sleeved black shirt into my hand. She hugged me back, oblivious to the danger she was in. I placed my forehead against hers and smiled, "This is going to be fun for me and you will be able to sleep very, very well."  
"Oh, really?" she giggled in that ghastly nasally voice of hers. I nodded, "Yes, really."  
"What are you gonna do to me?" she laughed playfully and began to play with my hair. I leaned to her ear, smiling, and whispered, "I'm gonna make you scream."  
I then plunged the pocket knife into her shoulder blades, causing her to breathlessly cry out. I slit her throat and and began to repeatedly stab her in the chest. Her blood splattered wonderfully on my clothes and the ground. I stood after ripping her apart and fled the scene. I ran into the apartment I had rented without anyone noticing. I quickly stripped and hopped into the shower. I smiled to myself.  
"In one hour I get to have my (y/n) back, after three years of being without her..."


	3. Part 3

[(Y/n)'s P.O.V.]  
I looked at the clock and slipped on a jacket and some running shoes.  
"I can't believe I'm going to see him..." I mumbled, still wondering why I felt like I had to see him, the man that ruined me. For three years, I felt like I needed him just so I could survive, that I actually love that deranged bastard. Murphey told me I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome because I had no human contact, except for Jeff.  
A knock at my door grabbed my attention and I quickly opened it. Two police officers, both male and had the same muscular build. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion and asked, "Y-yes? H-How may I help y-you?"  
"Miss, we came to ask a few questions about your friend Stella." one spoke, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible.  
"Wha- What happened to Stella?!" I asked, eyes widened in shock and worry. They explained she had been stabbed repeatedly in the chest as well as in the back. Her throat was slit to keep her from screaming. This all happened only hours after she got off of work in that diner Murphey and I had visited. I cried uncontrollably when they gave me the news. I'd never hear her New Yorker accent and nasally voice or see her stunning red hair ever again. I sobbed for about thirty minutes after the cops left. I looked at the clock, then it clicked.  
"He... He's gonna pay for this!" I cried out in anger and ran into the kitchen grabbing a knife. Hiding it in my jacket I left for the meeting place.  
(Jeff's P.O.V.)  
I waited for (y/n). I have been waiting for this. Her friend is dead and I know she'll be mine again. I'm all she's got. I need to tie up my loose ends. A female silhouette came in sight and my smile grew. My dearest (y/n) got closer and closer. Something shined in her jacket. I knew it was a knife, much like my own, but (y/n) wouldn't be able to land a hit... Not on me, anyways.  
"J-Jeff..." she stuttered, obviously upset. Tears brimmed her eyes, close to falling. I knew she had heard the news of Stella's death.  
"(Y/n), I'm so damn happy to see your beautiful face again." I grinned, but didn't move because I wanted her to come back to me on her own will. I continued with a slight chuckle, "I see you got all my gifts... I hope you like them, especially the last one."  
Her eyes grew angry. She lunged at me, pulling out the knife. I side stepped and watched her as she sliced at me again and again in anger. She began to cry in anger and anguish as she continued to attack me. Each swipe was easily dodged. She broke down as I caught her knife-weilding hand, her tear falling freely and her breathing heavy and strained, "Why did you have to kill her?! Stella wasn't part of this! Why'd you come back?! Haven't you done enough?"  
I pulled her into a tight embrace after forcing her to drop the knife to the ground and spoke softly in her ear, stroking her soft, (h/c) hair, "You're mine, (y/n). I came back for you. I love you and I know you love me, whether you want to or not."  
She gasped for air as she cried, burrowing her head into my freshly cleaned hoodie. I slowly lowered our bodies to the ground and leaned against a tree behind us. (Y/n) continued to sob for at least and hour, every now and then saying 'I hate you.' Not refusing my touches nor my whispers of sweet nothings.  
"(Y/n), it is late. You've had a long day. Why don't you come and stay with me for the night or I could stay with you..." I suggested, easily manipulating her in her broken down, vulnerable state. She nodded in agreement and I picked her up. Carrying her wonderful body in my arms again. I carried her bridal style back to her apartment, unlocking the door was a bit tricky with her in my arms, but I managed. As soon as we entered the room, I kicked the door shut and lied her on the bed gently. Her eyes half lidded and drowsy, soon fluttering shut as I helped her under the covers and slid in next to her. I flicked out the light and kissed her soft lips; the taste of victory was sweet.  
The moment I grabbed her wrist when she attacked me, I stuck a drugged needle in her wrist. It was only a small amount and should keep her asleep for at least one night. Of course, one night is all I need...


	4. Part 4

**_(A/N: This is the final part! Please, keep in mind, I tried to get back to Jeff's "true" nature here.)_**

(Jeff's P.O.V.)  
"You can finally sleep." I whispered in her deafened ear and kissed her cold cheek before leaving her house without a trace. Murphey arrived as if on cue when I got into my hiding spot. He unlocked (y/n)'s door and walked in. A scream ripped from his throat, "(Y/n)?! N-No!"  
Police filled the area in a matter of minutes and I was forced to get a new hiding spot. That'll teach her.  
(Reporter)  
(Full Name), a victim of rape three years ago, was found dead in her apartment this morning by her secret lover, local psychologist, Dr. Marlow Murphey Jones. He entered apartment to view a horrid sight. His late lover's body lying in blood soaked sheets with the word 'MINE' carved into her chest, her face was oddly calm as if she were asleep.  
Boxes of gifts and letters address to the deceased were discovered in her closet, all signed from her rapist, the infamous Jeff the Killer. One newly written letter was in the box. It reads:  
'My beloved (y/n),  
I have granted you the ability to finally be at ease and sleep. I'm sorry it had to come to this, but I had no choice; you were no longer mine, but Murphey's.  
Yours forever,  
-Jeffery'


End file.
